Qluster
Fragen

I don't often see the Po. Once, maybe twice a month.

End of November 2014, I cross it with a pensive mind at work and eyes on a body of water that slowly and inexorably tends to the sea. Today it is even more beautiful, more majestic, it is immense. It is two or three kilometers wide (I am not exaggerating), the surge of the ill-fated November rains has just passed, the water has taken possession of the plain, it has invaded the poplar groves and floodplain fields.

Everything flows, panta rei, in continuous evolution...Kluster and then Cluster, now Qluster, the evolution of the species that with small steps who knows where it will end up. From the late sixties, through four decades, they have reached us.

Everything seems still, the music seems to emphasize it. Slow sounds that propagate through seven pieces that I can hardly distinguish. Electronic music that fills the pneumatic void of my car, a mechanical bubble pushed by some organic chemistry on a road that seems like an infinite bridge. The eighty-year-old Hans Joachim Rodelius at the keyboards and the forty-year-old Onnen Bock for the electronics elevate my thoughts, letting them float in the interplanetary silence. I pass by vehicles that seem like asteroids, everything is calm, damnably calm. Peace, serenity. Too much peace and too much serenity. My journey continues, my next appointment is near, I am too relaxed. "Fragen" (2011) is music for a static journey, not for a dynamic one. It is a schizoid and alien album, out of time. In 2014 it's an electronic that's now conventional, perhaps not predictable but already heard, keyboards upon keyboards without any recognizable structure, mystical improvisations, music for micro niches, pure avant-garde (too much so for my tastes).

I will always remember that flood and will always associate it with Qluster with the "q". Let the Germans not be mad if I may never let them ride in the car with me again. However, they will always remain stuck in my memory to that fluid surface, plowed by wooden corpses, which at sunset managed by magic to inflame my somewhat depressed spirit from a sudden drop in sugar.

Everything flows, everything is in motion, there is no fixed point. And this is our tragedy...